


White Tower Rising

by mabus101



Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Gen, Post-Breaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 10:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12430434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mabus101/pseuds/mabus101





	White Tower Rising

The hatch of the impossible craft lifted, grumbling and leaking rusty dust, not under any power save the One, and slowly something emerged, a figure bound to its chair by ropes and *chellek* hoses. Slowly the wheeled chair creaked from the jo-car, and a hand rose to shade rheumy eyes from the sun, a hand pale and wrinkled from immense age.

Fels Aes Sedai embraced *saidar*, and under the wheezing machinery she perceived the figure's uniform, faded from blood red to rust and encrusted with more medals than she could have imagined. Even if most were scraps of nails or bolts. The figure lifted its head, revealing a *chellek*-made breathing mask and a face so wrinkled Fels could barely perceive its features. Attendants in similar uniforms, none so decorated, rushed out of the armored car or leapt from their horses and ran to their leader.

"I am...General Artein," the aged being rasped. "I come...in the name...of the Consolidated...Republic."

"The Consolidated Republic is dead these three hundred years," Fels admonished. "Shadar Nor, its last ruler--"

"While I live...the Republic lives!" the General hissed. "I saw...the Skybridge fall. I heard...the last transmission...of Olympus Base. I am...a general of...the Republic...the General...of the Thirteenth...Division...and in two hundred...thirty years...I have known no...other general. I stand...Highest! My orders are...preserve what can...be preserved. Slay men...who channel."

Fels narrowed her eyes and studied the general even more carefully. "I adjure you by Serpent, Wheel, and Clock, speak the truth. Are you not yourself a man who can channel?"

*Saidar* filled the General like a winter flood, and Fels knew her mistake at once. "I...AM...NOT!" The General's hands trembled on the handrails of her chair as if she would rise, but of course she could not. "That accusation...has dogged me...these three hundred years...till almost...I wish...I'd not reserved...the surgical bays...for casualties. I forgive you. It matters little...now."

Fels knelt in apology. "I am sorry, general Aes Sedai. What brings you here?"

"As you me...I adjure you...is this where dwells...the Cult of Pure White Light? Is this the isle...of Tar Valon?"

Rising, Fels rifled quickly for a half-truth. "It is Tar Valon, General Artein." She turned and waved a hand at the hilly island halfway across the river. Tents and shacks covered the island shore. "Of this cult, though, I know nothing."

She could not read the twist the general's mouth made. "Then you know...no Idalf Gershom? No Tenets...of Pure Reason? And no man...channels here?"

"No man," Fels answered. "I do not know these names."

General Artein lunged forward in her chair, and Fels rose into the air, dangling from her neck by the Power. "You...lie. Colonel Lopang...prepare for the crossing. We must catch...Idalf Gershom...before his heresy...spreads. As for you...."

Fels flailed desperately with the Power, but the last thing she heard was the snap of her neck.


End file.
